Took omeprazole
alongside oxycodone.
Won't do that again!

we are not
a country,
we are not
patriots,

just
individuals,
meant to follow
our heart,

the rest
is ingrained,
indigested,
strained
into us,

we are not
borders,
we are not
boundaries,

we are much
more than flags,
shrouds and
two days in a
year of

tricolours...

who am I?
is where
it begins...

Two years look like an eternity
when looked at from these two eyes
and in two years, maybe,
I'll be looking at two eternities.

Retrospect tells me that this is the year
Where my mind must ponder anew it all:
All these things I held true, my darling dear.
I go on a journey (if you must call)
Through disposition and natural born
Instincts and beliefs till myself I find.
Locked in confusion I grow so forlorn,
And though it’s you I hurt, you act so kind.
You must find someone else to hold your soul;
Love names me defender but it’s not I –
Faithless and worn, I should not be your goal,
Yet death ‘lone could leech my final goodbye.
    I figured out after so many tries:
    My feelings are fickle and my heart lies.

Do you remember me
because I do
remember you
like the sea waves -
the shore sands;
for I surrendered truth
into the scarred hands
of time
where our silence
left its hesitation marks...

My summer smells like deadlines,
for lifelines **** themselves
sometime near spring,
with the serrated rust
of misconstrued martyrdom,
they wither fall
into a ghost who lingers
flaking slow
among the fallen ribbons,
former clothes
torn and thrown away
for the sheets of winter

in a city of shifting faces
we become forgetful about life in different places
succumbed to a world within a world.
construction and history
poverty and misogyny;
the city is lost within me and i am lost within the city

we all suffer the internal blackholes of everyday life

in a city of anonymous faces,
we take no notice
succumbed to a world within a world where only our world matters
and we wonder what's for lunch whilst thousands live homeless and the irony of wondering why so many go hungry
in a city of greed

consumers consumed by consumerist propaganda

all the shifting faces we walk past on a daily basis
bigots, fascists, racists
and we are wrapped up
too engulfed by our own lives to care about others
but selflessness is only selfless if not done for self, but i was told
"no good deed goes unpunished"
but we should do good anyway
because in a city of shifting faces
be the face-shifter who stops turning pages and pauses --
take in the scenery
and be alive for every moment;
it is okay to be a passer-by in a city of nameless strangers
but never in your own life

You used to love me
But I never used to love
Who I used to be